“I can feel the ink now,” [character:8116407|Vicious Blade] murmured, his voice a low, gravelly hum. “The needle sinking into the flesh, forcing the pigment deep below the skin. Knowing that with every vibration, I am marking myself. It's ecstasy.”

[character:6880404|Ferocious], always meticulous, grimaced. "Let me get this straight, you let a stranger inject permanent dyes into your body with a needle. A tattoo."

"I wasn't gonna use a sticker," quipped Vicious.

"That wasn't my point, but... you have to be insane. Needles carry disease, and the skin is the body's largest organ. Who did it?" Ferocious' tailored suit was immaculate, her focus absolute as they pretended to clean the office of the Constable.

Vicious threw back a dry laugh. "This'll come as a shock to you, but most people like to decorate their skin. Why don't you have one? Afraid of needles, Furrball?"

"Oh, you savage," smiled Ferocious, enjoying being teased for being [race:8005382|Katari], "I can't have one. I'm covered in fur. You know that. It would just be a blurry, infected mess under the pelt. It's uncivilized."

"But if you could," Vicious insisted, "what would you get?"

"Nothing! I prefer a clean slate," she nearly purred.

The two had been posing as cleaners, emptying trash and pretending to mop the floors of the office carrying on this conversation when the constable walked proudly in.

"Magister Brontus agreed to sign the warrants," he said in an offhand way to the 'cleaning crew'. "Yeah, it's actually happening. We're taking down The [organisation:6801318|Syndicate]. Can you..." but his voice was cut off in a sharp, wet choke as Ferocious wrapped the garrote expertly around his neck and quietly began the ending of their operation. Neat and clean.

Vicious didn't like being left to watch and leapt forward with a short dagger stabbing again and again at the constables midsection. As his body crumpled blood dripped everywhere. Vicious was breathing heavily, his eyes dilated, the raw violent pleasure still lingering.

"What the hell?" Ferocious stared at the gore.

Vicious gave a sharp, challenging smile to the dying man. "Look at me. Look at me! How does it feel?"

"Pretty sure it doesn't feel like ecstasy. Hard to tell, frankly." Ferocious stepped past Vicious, surveying the chaotic scene. "Look at this mess. This is why I was using a garrote."

"Well, you looked like you were struggling," Vicious said, tossing the knife onto a desk. "Besides, I felt inspired."

"Clean up the blood. Find something to...," began Ferocious.

"Why should I clean up? I did all the work. Are you kidding me? I am not cleaning up any blood."

Ferocious turned quickly, catlike nerves sensing the presence and her eyes locked on a terrified girl huddled in the corner, hand clutched to her chest. She addressed her with quiet menace. "What's your name?"

"Breda," she replied shakily.

"Breda. You didn't see anything here. Nod if you understand me."

Breda nodded frantically. Ferocious snapped one simple command "Run!" The girl scrambled out of the room. Ferocious watched her go.

Vicious shouted at the Katari rogue then, "What is the matter with you? She could ID us."

Ferocious shook her head emphatically, "No kids. That's the code. You know that."

Vicious merely scoffed. "You're such a candy apple, Ferocious. Mercy is for the weak."

The two sat across from [character:8414157|Stax] in his sterile office. Ferocious, now changed and immaculate, maintained perfect posture. Vicious was slouched, bored, poking at a bowl of heavily spiced beef with chopsticks.

"You take care of our little problem constable," Stax asked?

"Turns out the Magister never got the paperwork," Ferocious said smoothly. "You'd think something that important you'd follow through. It's just lazy."

"Good." Stax said ignoring Vicious' grimace as he chewed a tough tendon that somehow found its way into his bowl, "fucking street vendors."

"I've got another job for you two." Stax leaned forward. "The Elders are looking to negotiate a deal with the Neptune Cartel."

"Those animals? For what?" Vicious scoffed.

"The Syndicate wants a piece of the action in exchange for distribution. And you two are gonna broker the deal with their man, [character:8414158|Chow-ching]."

Vicious' eyes widened with genuine excitement. "Us?"

"Well, you, really," Stax said, nodding toward Vicious. "It’s my job to groom the likes of you. Brokering a deal of this magnitude is what Capos do. Don't fuck this up. Your future and mine hinge on it."

He gave the marching orders: "You open at forty percent, you settle... at twenty-five."

Vicious stood, triumphant. "I'll get the forty." He didn't even wait to be dismissed just walked out leaving Ferocious and Stax.

Stax’s eyes followed Vicious to the door, a deep, weary contempt settling on his face. He turned to Ferocious. "Un-be-fucking-lievable. My life's not hard enough, I've gotta bring up an Elder's kid," he seethed.

"Not everyone's a people person," Ferocious offered, an automatic defense.

"Oh, please. I know your type, always hiding from hard truths, but don't pretend you don't see it. There's something rotten in him."

"He's all right," Ferocious replied.

"That's only 'cause you clean up after him. This Neptune thing is a ripe deal. That's why they want you on it too, to make sure, to make dead bang sure he doesn't blow it. You hear me?"

Ferocious inhaled deeply, the weight of the Syndicate now fully settling on her shoulders. "Yes, sir."

"Else it's all our heads," stated Stax flatly. Ferocious nodded and followed Vicious out.

Vicious found his way to a private booth in the back of Ana’s club, [location:8242796|Nocturne], a low-lit, joint where the Serpiente cocktail was strong and the jazz was always live. Vicious was celebrating his new assignment by ordering expensive drinks and holding court with a couple of Syndicate underlings.

Ferocious, however, walked straight to the bar. She ordered a Serpiente and a Kudo.

"A Kudo for me, make it..." Ferocious's words trailed off as his attention was drawn back to Vicious’ table. He had dragged the cocktail waitress, Kiki, into his booth, forcing her to sit next to him as he boasted about the Neptune deal.

"What are you doing? Excuse us." Ferocious walked over. "This is a Capo's table. You wanna drink, DRINK, but don't share business with the staff." She pulled Kiki free with a gentle but firm hand.

Vicious merely laughed. "She stays."

Ferocious retreated back to the bar where [character:8116376|Ana], the club owner stood observing the scene with a weary eye and he offered the Kudo to her.

"The Serpiente is for you now. Vicious has had enough." Ferocious pushed the first drink toward Ana.

"Thirsty night?" Ana asked.

"I'm working up the courage to ask you to dance again," Ferocious said, a genuine smile finally cracking her composure.

"I keep telling you, you're too skinny for me," replied the well dressed owner tended to hold Syndicate people and their business at arms length, but she had a soft spot for Ferocious, always had.

Later, Vicious came over, beaming, fueled by arrogance and liquor.

"You're all smiles," Ferocious noted dryly.

"I'm finally getting the respect I deserve. It's about time." Vicious was practically vibrating with hubris. "The Syndicate is gonna be mine one day. You know that, right?"

"I do. And I'm really happy for you," Ferocious said, though her eyes and tail showed a measure of intense worry.

"For me? No, no, no. Where I go, you go. You'll be right there by my side. The two of us together." He lifted his glass. "Here's to us, sister."

"To Us," Ferocious said, raising her glass and trying to ignore the knot of dread tightening in her stomach.

The scene shifts dramatically. Later, Ferocious and Vicious are back in Stax’s office. The conversation is no longer congratulatory; the air is cold with failure.

"You tried to cut off his fucking hand?" Stax roared, his face turning red.

"That inbred animal insulted me, insulted The [organisation:6801318|Syndicate]," Vicious spat, utterly unrepentant.

"Did you think this was just about diamonds?" Stax threw his hands up in despair. "You did, didn't you? This was about The Syndicate getting a foothold in the cartel." He rounded on Ferocious,

"We can fix this, sir," she said, her cat ears drawing back defensively.

"I haven't even started with you! You dumb fucks! The both of you are fucking idiots! The fix will come down from the Elders. You two will do nothing, you will sit on your fucking thumbs and wait until they tell me what to do, then I will tell you what to do and you will goddamn do it!"

Vicious stood up, dismissing Stax entirely. "To hell with Stax. To hell with all of them. The Elders will see. They'll say I've done the right thing. We need to put the fear into those Neptune savages."

Ferocious stepped in front of Vicious, her voice low. "Whatever happens, happens."

"For you, maybe," Vicious snarled. "For me, there are... expectations."

He stormed out, leaving Ferocious to shoulder the weight of Stax’s wrath and the fallout of the botched negotiation.

"Fucking Chow-Ching!" Vicious’ furious cry echoed down the hall.

Ferocious had managed to get Vicious away from [location:8242796|Nocturne] as the headed to a dive bar to cool down, a quiet place where Vicious could recover his wounded pride. The silence in the street was thick, punctuated only by Vicious' bitter muttering.

"This place is amazing, by the way," Ferocious said, trying to break the tension.

Vicious gave her a look of pure contempt. "Sarcasm doesn't suit you."

"Hey, I was being serious. Everybody loves a dive bar," she said. "I love places like this for getting shit-faced. Which I prefer doing over dancing."

Ferocious had been trying to get him to let go of the negotiation failure, to show him that they were still partners, still a unit. She thought a distraction might work.

"I don't think so," objected Vicious, "You go, if you like this place so much."

Ferocious rolled her eyes. "All right, I guess it's on you." She stood, ready to move.

Vicious' mood was a black hole she couldn't pull him out of.

Suddenly, Vicious froze. His eyes locked onto a figure standing at the far end of the bar—the Neptune Cartel delegate, Chow-Ching.

"Son of a bitch," Vicious whispered, his face going pale with rage.

"What is it?" Ferocious asked.

"It's Chow-Ching. That Neptune scum," and with that Vicious Blade was again out of control.

"Vicious, wait," Ferocious pleaded, grabbing his arm. "Vicious, stop!"

But he was gone, a blur of motion fueled by the need for savage retribution. He slammed Chow-Ching against the wall.

"You wanna fuck with me? You wanna fuck with The Syndicate?" Vicious' rage was pure, terrifying, and completely public.

"Vicious, stop! You're gonna kill him. Stop!" Ferocious screamed, but Vicious was already raining blows down on the man's face......

Back at Vicious' apartment, the violent man was a wreck. He threw himself onto his couch, staring at the ceiling.

"All my life..." Vicious began, the words slow and slurred. "I've tried not to feel anything, to not care about anything... 'cause if I did, I'd have something to lose. Something to be afraid of. And right now... all I'm afraid of is losing this."

He wasn't talking about the Syndicate, or Stax. He was talking about his sense of self, the power he believed was his birthright.

"Is this a dream?" he asked.

"Worse," Ferocious admitted.

Ferocious understood his pain, the crushing weight of his father's disapproval. She knew Vicious had grown up desperate to prove himself, only to have his rage constantly undermine him.

"All my life... whatever trouble I got myself into... if I couldn't buy my way out, you'd talk us out." Vicious’ gaze drifted to the window. "If I failed my father's name... My fucking father."

He took a long, ragged breath, remembering a trauma.

"You know, he made me watch the night my mother jumped. Nine years old. I watched as she contemplated her mortality while standing on the roof. I could barely comprehend it. My father, my fucking... father... didn't move a muscle to help her. He just kept whispering in my ear... how weak she was. Over and over. And then... when I cried... as I saw her step off that ledge... he started telling me how weak I was for shedding a tear. He's right. He's always been right. Like her... I am weak."

Vicious looked at his hands, the guilt palpable. "Killing that animal... It was weakness."

It was a messenger that pulled Ferocious back to the Syndicate Office, subtle but insistant. The moment she sat down, Stax threw a file on the table between them. His usual rage was replaced by a grim resignation.

"I can fix it, sir. You just give me 24..."

"No. No, no, no, it's over!" Stax interrupted, rubbing his temples. "Vicious crossed the line. There are consequences! The Neptune Cartel wants him dead. And if we don't comply—"

"It's gonna be war," Ferocious finished, her voice a flat whisper as her posture tensed.

"It's worse. It's last man standing. Everybody fucking knows... if there are survivors... the war never ends."

"His father, he's not gonna allow it."

"You'd think." Stax leaned in, his voice dropping to a near inaudible level. "Caliban sanctioned it."

Ferocious stared, her world tilting. Caliban, Vicious' own father, had condemned him to death.

"And he wants you to do it," Stax said.

"What?"

"He wants you to do it. He figured at least, you'd make it quick. If you don't," Stax concluded, "somebody else will."

Ferocious stood in silence. The Syndicate had demanded the life of the man she had sworn to protect. It was a loyalty test with only one lethal answer.

FERICIOUS HAS A MEETING WITH STAX, WHEREIN STAX ASK HER TO KILL VICIOUS. SHE ARRIVES AT HIS APARTMENT WHERE A QUIET VICIOUS IS DRAPPED OVER THE COUCH. FEROCIOUS, HOLDING A CURVED ASSASSINS BLADE APPROACHED FROM BEHIND, VICIOUS UNAWARE THAT HE IS ABOUT TO DIE.

"You shouldn't be here," Vicious said, her voice firm. "Any second they'll be coming for me."

"I'm not gonna let that happen," Ferocious swore, stepping toward him, but she only rested her hand on his shoulder protectively before sheathing the dagger. She'd made her decision.

LATER AT THE BLUE CROW CLUB

Ferocious went to the Blue Crow Club, a known meeting spot for the Neptune Cartel operatives who were now hunting Vicious. She knew if those men found him first, they would not make it quick.

She burst in, dual knives drawn, a whirlwind of calculated, brutal force. The air filled with the deafening cries for mercy, shattering glass, and splintering wood. She moved with mechanical efficiency, her mind shut off from everything but the target in front of her. She took down every operative, every armed guard, ensuring no one would be left to pursue Vicious.

But there was one witness.

As Ferocious turned to leave, she saw a young woman, a bartender, crouching behind the bar, weeping. The same age as the girl Vicious reprimanded Ferocious for letting run at the start of the night.

No kids. That’s the code, she said with her inside voice. Ferocious reversed the dagger in her hand, a hand that was strangly stead now.

"You didn't see anything here. This never happened, do you understand me?"

The woman was paralyzed with fear. Ferocious lowered the dagger. "Run."

The woman hesitated, and in that agonizing second, Ferocious realized the gravity of this choice. Leaving the woman alive meant leaving a witness, a survivor who could identify her, who could perpetuate the violence. This war would never end.

With a gasp that was half scream, Ferocious flung the blade taking the girl squarely in the neck.

She backed away slowly, shaking her head. "I can't keep doing this. This life. This madness. I don't want this to be who I am anymore."

FREOCIOUS NOW KNEW SHE WAS MARKED AND HEADED TO NOCTURNE TO GET SOME ITEMS FOR A DISGUISE AND ONE LAST CHANCE TO SAY GOODBYE TO ANA ALDANA.

Ferocious drove toward [character:8116376|Ana Aldana]s back room, where [character:8116399|Gren Gryphon] was waiting with the new identities. She needed to escape the Syndicate's war for good.

She found Vicious already there, waiting for her out front gripping a bottle of spirits, his face a mess of anger and confusion.

"What the fuck?" he snarled, slamming the bottle down in to the hands of Ferocious.

"I heard what you did," Vicious interrupted, his eyes blazing with hurt and betrayal. "You went to the Blue Crow Club. You butchered those men."

"They were coming for you! Your father sanctioned your death—"

Vicious laughed, a bitter, hysterical sound. "My father? Don't insult me. You didn't do that for me. You did it to prove you were strong. You wanted to step into the vacuum I left when I failed the Elders!"

"No!" Ferocious protested. "I did it for us. I did it because I’m loyal to you—"

"Loyal?" Vicious sneered. "You did it to prove you skills, you ability to solve every problem on your own."

Vicious drew a heavy antique dagger. "You chose the Syndicate over me," he said, believing in his twisted heart that Ferocious had chosen the Syndicate over him. "Think you're strong enough to defeat us?"

Ferocious knew she she was good, but she couldn't kill him and the five bodyguards there were too many. Her loyalty, even if misdirected, was still absolute. She raised her empty hands.

Vicious came at her and the others too.

In the aftermath, Ferocious staggered backward, clutching her side as she fell into the cold, black water below.

Vicious watched the blood bloom on the water’s surface, then calmly sheathed his blade. He had eliminated the last threat to his claim on the Syndicate. He walked out, a lone figure of ascending malice.

Ferocious did not die. She closed her eyes, knowing she would never look back. The blood on her hands, both from the Neptune operatives and from her own wound, was the price of her freedom. She had carried the burden of Vicious for the last time. She closed her eyes, knowing she would never look back. The blood on her hands, both from the Neptune operatives and from her own wound, was the price of her freedom. She had carried the burden of Vicious for the last time.

The icy water slowed her bleeding and dulled the sharp pain. She had failed to save Vicious from himself, and he had paid her back with a blade to the belly. She was injured, alone, and hunted by the only family she had ever known. She never heard the soft splash of a Ribbit entering the water. Never felt the strong, amphibian arms hoist her onto a slow-moving barge. Viewing the gushing blood, [character:8298006|Rat] made a decision. Ferocious had been there for them; they would be there for her. They knew the cold water would slow the bleeding, maybe keep Ferocious alive. They rigged a rope harness and tossed her body overboard. The Vulture's Feast was a familiar craft, and they knew it would pass near [location:6821563|Grellan's Grove]. After a quick chat with the captain about some cargo to be delivered to the Grove they wanted kept cold, the Ribbit sprang from the barge. It was all they could do. They hoped it would be enough.

Katrina

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